"*Pant* *Pant* .....ughh... phew." James wiped his forehead from the little amount of sweat that had built up, he peered up to his Drill Officer.

"Son, take another lap and you better get here quick, or your ass is grass!" Shouted the Drill Officer.

"Sir, I've ran past the squad five times already." At this point, the rest of the cadets arrived, gasping for breath.

"Then run another five! I don't allow any form of bitching in this academy, if you want to be bitching, THEN BE MY GUEST TO CHANGE YOUR GENDER IDENTITY TO A DAMN FEMALE!"

James remained at attention stance, not even flinching. It seemed as though his tiredness had gone away in seconds, while the rest of the cadets finishing up their second lap, panting heavily.

"You think your special don't you Roy.... You think with an attitude like that, you are invincible?"

The Drill Officer had gotten up into James's face, and with a quieter tone,

"I'll have you running for the hills, Jimmy. Mom ain't here to save you now, and none of these other disgraceful pile of shits will either. Whatever it is you have, you think you have, shove it and take anything with a palm-full of salt."

James's eyes maintaining a view of thousand yards, unhinged.

"Heh heh... Yeah." The Drill Officer turned to a group of instructors, "Prepare the Fight Circle. We'll see how tired these fucks will have to overcome to fight each other.... to death."

The instructors nodded, and they jogged to a complex nearby that was circular shaped.

"MOVE IT! GET THERE NOW! GO GO GO!"

The Cadets, including James were rushed to the fighting circle, a place were the cadets were put against each other, and at times, actual Legion Elites. On their hurry to the complex, James took notice of the Academy around him. Fireside, one of the most prestigious academies in all of the LNO territories. The buildings were tall and punctuated with there pointed accents, and the detailed stone engravings and mark of Legion values.

Everyone around James was exhausted, they had endured extreme conditioning and were put to run as many laps as possible. One lap covered two and a half miles. The cadets ran two, James ran six. A lot of the cadets would glare at James with confusion, with a thought of his existence.

When they arrived at the arena, the instructors lined up to give the cadets their protective gear.

"There will be no need for that." Said the Drill Officer walking up behind the exhausted cadets. "We'll run it in realism, and what they will engage. This is no time for play."

The instructors agreed, and ushered the cadets into the center of the complex. It was fairly large, with seats surrounding the center circular floor. The cadets entered and stood in formation at the edges of the arena. Above, the ceiling was constructed as a circular glass roof, to match the circular floor and provide light into the complex during the day. The ground was solid, with no form of protection. It was full marble flooring with patterns of the Origin of Legionnis Combat Insignia. The instructors and Academy Deans have stated before that it was to show the strength and cunning that is the Legion Elitis Program. Although, rumors between the cadets have said that it was easier to clean up the blood.

"We are going to put you in a simulation, much like a real combat situation. Make no assumption, your life will be attempted on. No gear this time."

The Cadets stared straight forward. They did not move, not one flinch. Neither did James, he just stared in front of himself, taken in the scenery of the glaring spotlight that shone down into the circle.

"I want to see what you have learned." The Drill Officer said as he looked down upon the group of young cadets, "Dillon Sarpiea..... Dentry Adams.. Center Circle now!"

Both cadets immediately rushed forward and stood opposite of each other in the center of the circle, just staring into each other. The Drill Officer approached the two.

"Your forms have been run through many times. Shyaer Kunn, Tikna Two, Wrestling.... All of it." The Drill Officer had leaned close to the two cadets.

"Begin."

Quickly the cadets engaged in their combative stances. Peering into each other with fierce expressions, and determined postures. They slowly circled each other, feeling each others motive of movement. Every step they took, striking the reflective-marble flooring, echoed throughout the complex. It was silent and all gazed in the fight.

Dillon struck first blood! He approached and disarmed Dentry's leading arm with an upwards blow making him lose his balance. With his other arm, Dillon landed a harsh punch to Dentry's nose, causing it to stream with blood at a steady flow. An exemplary display of a skillful form, Shyaer Kunn. Stunned, Dentry strided forward, slid and dropped Dillon to the floor swiping his legs in the process!

Dentry immediately gained upper hand, and continued to beat down on him with both fists, striking painful blows to the body! Dillon finally regaining awareness, countered one of the blows and sent a fist straight for Dentry's face, forcefully leaning him back on the ground. Dentry was on his back, and quickly Dillon wrestled him until he gained full control. He attempted to choke Dentry till he lost consciousness, but Dentry was very determined, and precisely maneuvered his way to gain some form of freedom.

Dillon was getting to feel that Dentry would get the better of him, so he stretched out in front of him and with all his strength, punched Dentry square in the face once more, sending his head jerking backwards violently and striking the marble floor with a large collision to the back of his head!

The fight had ceased.

Dentry lay on his back motionless, with a forming of dark blood forming around his head. The blood flowed from his nose, streaming down the sides of his face, and soon formed with the blood on the marble flooring. Dillon stood up in pain, and with bruises all around his face and arms. He was panting in disbelief of what he had done.

"Sloppy... Move now! Move!" Shouted the Drill Officer as he collared Dillon and forcefully sent him aside to examine Dentry.

The Drill Officer leaned down to check on the idle Dentry. The blood had built up more and it surrounded his head completely. The Drill Officer looked up to the instructors and motioned for them to pick up the limp body, and seek medical attention.

"You let him get the upper hand on you, Dillon."

Dillon stood in shame, with blood dripping off his knuckles and large blotches of bruising on his arms and face.

"You never... NEVER... Let anyone get the best of you. You might as well sell your life away then and there."

The room was silent, and still James and all cadets stood in attention continuously.

"You are all too precious to be lost to so easily. The Order needs you, and you will answer to it when ready. For now, you are all worthless."

The Drill Officer walked up and down the rows of Cadets. His boots squeaking and stopping the marble floor. He stopped, turned and noticed James. He looked at him for a while and finally spoke,

"Ah.. the Special One.... James Roy.. Step forward to the center."

James saluted, and marched on forward stepping to the center of the circle and stepping into Dentry's blood. He looked forward at his opponent, Dillon. The Drill Officer approached once more.

"Now, Dillon you have gained some experience, and quite possibly have earned your first kill."

He turned to James and in a subtle, yet deepening voice responded,

"You can run laps all day beating your fellow cadets. You can keep completing your field simulations, embarrassing the other squads. You can do all of that James, but I wan't you now to prove to your cadets to the Order itself that you are what it is that will preserve the prosperity that makes our Legions ever so proud. So now... show us"

James looked straight into Dillon, analyzing him. He already predicted his very first move.

"Begin."

Dillon and James shifted around each other, anxious, yet determined. The marble floor echoing the sound of the steps and shifts the duo were making. The light peering down from above, emphasizing the fight that was taking place.

Dillon attempted to strike first blood once again, but failed, as he tried to break James's stance. James countered the move quickly by stepping over to his weak side and throwing Dillon down to the ground with the arm that Dillon threw forward to strike James. In a fluid motion, James held onto Dillon's arm as he stayed pressed down against the floor. Half of Dillon's face was meshing against the little pool of blood that was left from Dentry.

"Argh!" Yelled Dillon.

With one foot pressured on Dillon's neck and his hands gripping his arm sticking upwards, James forced and broke Dillon's arm!

"AAARRRrrgg....AAh.!" Dillon was in shrieks now, and was hoping for an end.

And an end he received. Soon after breaking Dillon's arm, James swung his left leg fiercely kicking Dillon in the mouth, knocking him out cold. James stood back, unharmed. Dillon lay in Dentry's blood and soon his own, as blood was flowing out of his mouth. His arm distorted and awkwardly positioned backwards left an awful sight for the cadets.

The Drill Officer approached with no comment.

"Take Dillon away." The Drill Officer said, and the instructors placed him on a stretcher and hauled him away.

"Stan.... Blake... Center now"

Both cadets approached to the center. James began starting off to the row of cadets and stand attention until the Drill Officer halted him.

"You're going no where James... Stay here." The voice was slight and harsh. James looked back in curiosity, and stood back in his former stance. Here, James stood over the blood of two cadets. The two new cadets stood before James.

"In combat... It will never be a fair fight." The Drill Officer looked down to the two cadets.

"You both will take on ol' Jimmy here." He then looked toward James. "

James.... Impress us." As the Drill Officer walked away.

"Begin."

Immediately, Stan rushed forward and kicked at James's legs! James quick to counter, blocked that kicks and sent a kick to his abdomen sending him back. Blake lunged to beat James down with a series of blows, but James caught the wrist of one of the blows and squared a punch into Blake's left eye, and a harsh uppercut sending him to slam on the floor.

Stan regained balance and leaped to tackle James! Having grabbed James, he wrestled him down to the ground. That was until James grabbed greater stability and threw Stan on the floor landing on the marble floor with a harsh landing! Meanwhile, Blake got up slowly gripping his jaw which seemed to be broken. James approached Blake, whom threw another punch. James dodged the punch and sent a painful punch to Blake's side, having Blake lean over in excruciating pain!

With Blake stunned by the harsh blow, James sent a fist to his head which rendered Blake unconscious, twitching on the hard marble floor and on the blood of others.

Stan who was resting on his stomach, attempted to get back up but was obviously struggling. He was stopped when James walked over to Stan who was in a crawl position and tried to regain focus. James with one hand gripping the back of his shirt, and the other palming the back of his head, forced Stan to the ground! His face had smashed hard into the marble floor!

"Aarrgghmmpphh!" The shouting of pain was muffled by the blood of his own, the other cadets and the floor which he was pressed against.

James continued pounding his face against the marble floor, with the splashing of blood spreading around with each collision!

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Finally, James stopped when he realized Stan had stopped resisting James's grip. He let go of Stan's lifeless body which was faced down on a pool of blood. Blake lay on his side unconscious, spontaneously twitching every now and then.

James just stood before the two bodies. His face was partially covered in the blood of his opponents, his fatigues smeared in red blood all around in different areas.

"Alright! Alright!" The Drill Officer shouted as he approached the center arena, "We don't want you killing everybody! Instructors, take these boys away to medical as well. It seems as though we really do have a special one in our midst."

James looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood and he didn't receive any pain or injury of his own during the sparing sessions. His expressions were of both determined, and as if he expected such sort of things to happen in a time like this.

"Cadets dismissed! Head back to your barracks!"

"Yes Sir!" Shouted all cadets, including James whom was still in the center of the arena.

As James made his way to the exit of the building, the other many cadets who were in front of him looked at him in shock, and surprise at what they had witnessed. Many whom were closer to James, positioned themselves to be farther away from him, as if they were to be attacked by him. They cleared a path for James, and jogged in formation behind him to the barracks.

Such a great scene. James leading the pack, smeared in blood of his enemies. His fellow cadets, clean and in order, following behind in astounding inspiration of their top class cadet, James Roy.